


The D in Penthouse 3

by Isola_Caramella



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isola_Caramella/pseuds/Isola_Caramella
Summary: Jaime recalls how he and Brienne initially met.Unbetaed, unbowed, unbroken





	The D in Penthouse 3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Nerdy for the title inspiration! Xoxo

Brienne rolled her Dunk and Egg suitcase down the hall as she angrily mouthed the lyrics to ‘The Hammer and the Anvil.’ She bounced on the balls of her feet a little as she dug around for her key ring, hitting pay dirt as the drums pounded in her ears. Once safely inside the penthouse, she finally gave herself permission to yell the angry lyrics at the top of her lungs, the ale sloshing around in her stomach reminding her of just how much she’d allowed herself to drink. It was Hyle’s fault, and hers too for thinking he ever loved her. A year of her life wasted because she let herself feel something other than piercing self loathing, for Hyle of all people. The one thing that she wanted now was ice cream and of course the only thing in the freezer was “dairy free, sugar free, and gluten free.”

Why? And how? Taste free should have been the next in the long list of free. She took it anyway and went in search of a spoon, something was better than nothing and she needed a buffer after all of the drinking. The first spoonful went down like cardboard, swelling in her mouth until she spit it back in the container, vowing to buy Margaery a new one tomorrow at first light. As she opened the cabinet housing the thrash can, two things became apparent, she wasn’t alone and the intruder was naked.

The kitchen lights flicked on, blinding her momentarily as the intruder glared.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

Too much alcohol, fight or flight or years or being looked at by her fellow man as less than made Brienne punch the intruder square in the face. Wiping the snarl off effectively as she pulled off her headset and hat.

“Seven hells, you’re a woman?” he gurgled through his bleeding, more than likely broken nose.

Something in his tone made her realize that she was a woman, alone in a locked apartment with a naked man. Flight kicked in then as she sprinted from the kitchen, taking the wrong hallway in her haste and fleeing into Margaery’s master bedroom, locking herself in the closet as she fumbled to get phone out and call the police. The banging on the closet door startled her, most men would be on their knees from one of her punches, this one was not. The light from her phone screen illuminated Margaery’s shoe wall, filled not with colorful deadly heels, but men’s shoes. Shit.

“You have five seconds to get the hells out of there you bloody madwoman!”

Marge picked up on the second ring, “Please tell me someone I care very deeply about has died unexpectedly, otherwise you’ll be dead for calling me at four in the morning, no matter how much I love you.”

“Why is there a naked man in your apartment?” Brienne breathed out as the man in question continued beating down the door for all of King’s Landing’s benefit. She took in the closet then, all of Marge’s clothes, jewelry and mirrors were replaced with scrubs, suits and polos.

“What? My penthouse? Are you talking about Jaime?” The drowsiness leaving her voice.

“Who?” Brienne screeched, hoping against hope the alcohol was taking her hearing and comprehension skills.

“My renter. The one paying me gobs of dragons to use my penthouse while I’m in Essos, remember? The veterinarian I told you about? Brienne, what is going on.”

“Oh gods, Marge, oh gods.” Brienne could feel her chest tightening in embarrassment.

“You need to open up RIGHT NOW!”

“Fine, OKAY, I’m coming, just hold on.”

“Brienne...” Margaery started, her delicate voice pitching high.

Brienne promised to call her back as  she opened the door, silently praying to the Mother that he wouldn’t punch her back immediately. He looked pissed and was still naked. Very naked. 

 

Purple bruises were already visible around his eye, tainting his fairytale prince features. The bleeding had mercifully stopped since she’d ran in the closet. Brienne looked down to avoid his cutting glare, realizing her mistake only after her eyes came in direct contact with his not purple penis. Gods. She covered her face in shame.

“What the fuck?”

“This was an honest mistake, I swear! Margaery gave me an extra key, for emergencies.”

“Margaery hasn’t lived here for two months and what sort of emergency are you having at ten o’clock that involves blacking my eye?”

“I didn’t remember her renting the place, and I just needed it for one night. You startled me.”

His derisive snort said what he thought of that excuse.

“Fantastic, the emergency?”

“Is this really necessary?”

“My eye, nose and ruined sleep say yes.”

“I lived with my ex, we broke up and I need to find a new place. I’m really sorry, I am.” The ale was wearing off now, and even she could hear the dejection in her voice. Gods why was this even happening.

“Why’d you break up?” he asked conversationally, not at all bothered by his nakedness or his temporarily ruined face.

“You can’t be serious right now. He didn’t like me, but he very much liked the money my father sends every month to continue not working. Can you put on clothing?”

“He sounds like a winner and no I will not put on clothes when you’ve broken into MY home.”

He was right, of course he was but to continue on so smuglywas igniting her face into flames. It was just her misfortune that Margaery would have found someone this disgustingly beautiful to rent her place when Brienne needed it most. Her phone began trilling then, Hyle’s stupid unassuming face popping up and making Brienne snarl at the screen. The phone was out of her hand before she could hit decline.

“Brienne, I’m so...who are you?” Hyle stammered out as Jaime angled the phone to inexplicably show off his chest, obviously choosing the video option instead of just a regular call.

“Jaime. What do you want?” 

“Where is Brienne?” Hyle demanded as Jaime lazily flexed a muscle in his jaw.

“Asleep for the moment,” He coyly said as he took in Brienne’s shocked face.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Did you steal her phone? I swear to the gods if you’ve hurt you I’ll kill you.”

“Lannisters don’t steal, not cheap phones anyway. It’ll be best to delete Brienne’s number, she’s upgraded to someone who can afford to pay their own bills without depending on her father.”

Brienne heard Hyle’s partially outraged response before Jaime ended the call and handed her cell phone back to her. His bicep twitched as he folded his arms across his chest, scrutinizing her like a bug under a microscope. 

“If I leave you here to put on clothes, are you going to follow to black my other eye?” He said, the left side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

“No,” Brienne said, concentrating on the top of his head, grateful of her height for once. “I’m going to get a ride and just go. I really am sorry for the confusion.”

“I’m going to change, there’s some Khaleesi Fried Chicken that my brother left in the fridge, it’s a little burnt but still good. You’re welcome to it. I’ll give you a ride.”

———

Brienne sat at the dais, mortified that Jaime was telling their official how we met story. She never gave the full details, just a VERY truncated version of her going to Margaery’s penthouse not realizing Jaime was there. But Tyrion and Daven had created some drinking game and made up the rules as they went, and now her secret shame was out for the whole world. Her father was snorting in his cup and even Tywin looked like he may have managed a smile, Brienne was never sure. One of the worst nights of her life had brought her to this moment and for once, not even the usual embarrassment took over, the love of her new husband and old friends having a laugh at their expense only filled her with love.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, a girl owns nothing. The characters are not mine, I just get to play with them.


End file.
